MARSHAL BOOK III

The cold Arctic air reverberated with the sound of the newborn volcano. Three weeks ago this had been empty frozen waste land, now a thousand foot tall volcano spewed forth smoke and ash blocking out the eastern horizon. The ground, mostly rock and ice, went snap, crackle, pop, not unlike the famous breakfast cereal, but a million times more alarming. The international research station three miles from the base of the volcano is abandoned, its temporary buildings are shattered and burnt. Off to the northwest, the ice crystals in the sky sparkled, heralding the coming of another storm. Fifty miles in from the coast and 150 miles from the volcano, a second much smaller plume of black smoke billows up from the snow and ice. On the ice, an Arctic cat, and it’s sledge are burning. The Arctic cat has a body like a full sized van suspended from two sets of overly wide tracks. The cat has been ripped open by an explosion and there is a small fire flickering in back. The sledge it was towing is completely engulfed in fire. The life sustaining supplies are burning, giving off the black pungent smoke that would be visible for miles.